


Pretty, Pretty Come Talk To Me

by Nixie_DeAngel



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Bucky and Logan meet when Bucky first arrives, First Meeting, Flirty Logan, Logan can't help but notice how pretty Bucky is, Logan gives Bucky a new nickname, M/M, Victor makes an apperance, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/pseuds/Nixie_DeAngel
Summary: Rolling his eyes, Logan turns his eyes back forward resolutely and sets about ignoring Victor, who lets out a sharp bark of laughter, as he takes out his half-smoked cigar. He keeps his grumbles to himself; he knows if he speaks up now, his brother would spend the next few weeks — if not months — ragging him over letting his attention be ensnared by some fresh, pretty thing that was probably gonna end up dead before the year was up.Or, Bucky meets Logan when he firsts arrives overseas during WW2.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Logan (X-Men)
Kudos: 25





	Pretty, Pretty Come Talk To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clue. I found this in my drafts, so I cleaned it up some and decided to post it. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this weird little one shot!

* * *

Mostly these days, Logan doesn’t actually tend to notice the new recruits. They’re often far too young and loud — two things he doesn’t have time for, not these days when territories shift daily, if not hourly in certain parts; not when the scent of blood and tears lingers in his nose. So he’d stopped paying attention to the new recruits long ago, after all there were only so many of them he could get attached to before just the thought of losing yet another friend was just too much to bear.

So he finds himself just a little surprised when his eyes stray almost absentmindedly over the new batch boys — because really, there was just no other way to describe them — fresh off the boat, and he finds himself doing a double take over a pretty, lean brunette with a crooked grin and a spark in his eye that does a good job of hiding just how scared he truly is. He’s trim and young, and he’s everything Logan hasn’t been in over a hundred years, and by God, he can’t seem to help himself as his eyes follow the young man as he and his squad are shown to their temporary barracks.

He grunts when a sharp elbow catches him in the ribs, and he turns to shoot a glare over at his brother, who in return sends him a leering grin, “Pretty boy catch yer eye, little brother?”

Rolling his eyes, Logan turns his eyes back forward resolutely and sets about ignoring Victor, who lets out a sharp bark of laughter, as he takes out his half-smoked cigar. He keeps his grumbles to himself; he knows if he speaks up now, his brother would spend the next few weeks — if not months — ragging him over letting his attention be ensnared by some fresh, pretty thing that was probably gonna end up dead before the year was up. 

Besides, it wasn’t like he’d see the kid again. Newbies like him were more often than not dumped near the front lines, where they could be used as fodder.

Only Logan was apparently wrong, because the 107th hadn’t been shipped out like he’d thought they would be. No, no, they’d stayed right there at the mobile headquarters, where more often than not Logan and his company worked out of. So he saw quite a lot of the pretty brunette. And with seeing him, he more often than not had to put up with Victor’s ribbing and jeering as the weeks went on and he found himself seeing the pretty young man more and more.

Not that anyone would say something to him, of course. Most of the men, even those that worked closely with Victor and himself, wouldn’t dare to say anything to him or behind his back. It wasn’t often, Logan found his brother’s violent reputation to his advantage, but this time, he found himself pleased when it kept the men, and higher ups, from saying anything to him or behind his back about him. Especially when Logan rumbles out low and raspy, and just a little too flirty for how out in the open they were, “Hey, Pretty boy,” as he stumbles from the makeshift bar that’d been a setup. 

And really, Logan thought, he probably should’ve tried to find out earlier what Pretty’s name was. 

Let out a deep growl as he hears Victor guffawing with laughter from somewhere behind him, Logan keeps the glare off his face as he watches the Pretty turn towards him slowly, cheeks darkening to a pale pink and his eyes blinking owlishly as he lifts his hand up to point at himself slowly.

Swaying where he stands, Logan grunts as he gives a nod and lifts his hand to wave the boy over, and watches with hooded eyes as he ambles his way over. He waits until Pretty’s close enough, before slurring out lowly, “S’your name, pretty boy?”

“Uh, James Barnes, sir,” he answers, voice hesitant, laced with confusion. He rocks on his heels, as he eyes Logan for a long moment before continuing, “But my friends call me Bucky.”

Logan wrinkles his nose as he sways back before rocking forward and finds himself leaning on the other man. “Don’t call me that,” he grumbles as he lets him take some of his weight. They stay like that for a moment, Bucky sagging under the unexpected weight before he shifts Logan enough so they’re both comfortable. “I’m a stick with Pretty, Pretty,” he rumbles, lips brushing along Bucky’s cheek. “‘cause you're a pretty boy,” he adds with a rumbling chuckle, lips stretching into a playfully big grin, “An’ I don’t like, Bucky.” He sways for a moment, for murmuring softly, lips still brushing along soft, smooth skin as he pulls back to look down. “I’m tired, Pretty.”

Letting out a huff of indignation, Bucky shifts most of Logan’s weight so he can pull one of the bigger man’s arms over his shoulder, he curls his arm around his waist and helps Logan stumbles his way to the tent where Logan calls him these days, “Well, you could just call me James,” he murmurs softly.

“Can’t,” he grouches, “I’m James.”

“I thought you were Logan.”

“S’just what they all call me.”

“Like Bucky, for me.”

“S’cept Logan don’t sound like some kinda kid's name.”

Yanking them to a stop, Bucky turns and shoots Logan a dark glare. “I got that nickname when I _was_ a kid. My best pal Stevie gave me that name when we first met. _Sir_.”

“Still sounds like a stupid kid’s name,” Logan points out after a moment, slurring every other word, even as he grins when Bucky turns to send him a sharp glare. “Fine, fine, still just gonna call you Pretty, sweetheart,” he adds as he pitches close to rumble in Bucky’s ear. 

“That’s not gonna do me any favors, sir,” he grumbles, sharp and haughty, but he does shift Logan’s arm to curl around him closer, and gets them moving again.

It’s quiet for a moment before Logan lets out a huff, “Fine,” he nearly whines, “I’ll call you James in front of people, then Pretty, if it makes ya feel better. S’my tent there,” he waves his free hand towards where he’s talking about. “S’gonna come in, tuck me into bed?”

Bucky says nothing until they get just in front of Logan’s current living space and drops him onto the ground. “Maybe when you’re sober and you can not make fun of my name,” he snaps coldly before spinning on his heel and stalks off.

Logan nearly giggles as he watches those hips sway away from him, humming low and appreciative as he takes in shapely backside as it moves away from him. He stays there, swaying in place for a few more moments before shoving himself up and stumbles his way in and crashes onto his cot to sleep off the whiskey Victor had won in a poker game.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Nixie! You can find me where I post the things I [create](https://nixies-creations.tumblr.com/), or at my main blog [here](http://nixie-deangel.tumblr.com/)!


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